


Bloodties

by Guerrilla_Warfare



Series: A Tide of Sorrow [1]
Category: Thronecraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 12:58:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guerrilla_Warfare/pseuds/Guerrilla_Warfare
Summary: A story set in the world of Karuta following slaves in the Vampyric city of Ziris.





	Bloodties

The cold forced his eyes open, at least, that is what he blamed for his lack of sleep.  
For a few seconds he thought he was dead, for this was not his warm bed in the Varithian farmlands. No, he remembered now.  
He had been laying in his bed for about three hours, his brain buzzing with thoughts and fear.  
Voices would pass the door constantly. The whole house was cheaply put together, with so many drafts it was warmer outside than it was inside. He didn't realize it yet, but fever was upon him. it was only an hour before he heard the cries and sighs of slaves, pushing themselves out of bed for another day of mindless work.  
"Wake Up, Maggots! Get your filthy hinds to the mines or docks, none of you lot sneakin' off to the farm now, had a bit of an incident..."  
Damius Myrcyk lifted himself off the bedroll on the hard cold floor, and dragged himself towards the harbor.

2 hours of peaceful work passed by, Damius thought it was too good to be true. He had expected torture devices and slit throats, but all it was was a day of fishing.  
Perhaps because he thought this a certain person chose him to bully today.  
"Fresh meat, eh?" a hulking figure spat at him. He was enormous, covered in black hair with a beastly face and a wolfish grin. the only thing which told you not to tell him to fuck off was the Bloodhound tattoo carved onto his upper right abdomen. He was donned in a pair of tattered leather trousers, and wore a belt to hoist it up.  
"Lucky you didn't catch that nasty little bug all your other friends got." the man kicked him lightly.  
"Get up, let's see if your any good for a permanent stay here." Damius swore silently as he pushed himself up. A few Bloodhounds and Vampires gathered round to watch the day's entertainment.  
"What do you have then, eh, fresh meat?" Damius looked into the man's eyes in fear.  
"Ah, one of the great fuckheads of Varith! Come on, fresh meat, hit me!" Damius looked around nervously, the figures surrounding them had a glazed but fixed look in their eyes.   
"Hit me, fresh meat!" the man snarled, Damius threw a curled fist at the man's face, who caught it and crushed it in his hand. Damius shrieked in pain.   
"Weak." the man-beast kicked his foot into Damius' chest, knocking every ounce of wind from his lungs, and then rammed a gnarled fist at his face, breaking his nose and shattering his teeth.   
"Is this all you pathetic little Bloodhound recruits can catch?!" Spat the man-beast as he slammed Damius' head into a wooden support holding up the docks' shade.   
Damius slipped to the ground, his head spinning as he swam into darkness...

***

"Wake up, little one..."  
Damius' eyes flickered open. He was in a dark and damp room, the air was humid and their was the stench of old urine.  
"W-wha..?"  
Damius looked up, and there was the man again.   
"Bloodhounds said we could play a little game."  
"I don't know what you mean..."  
"We're going to play a game, and you can't do shit about it." Damius tried to move, and noticed he was bound to a metal chair.  
"Here's how it's going to work, I take your nails, then I do a few other things, then I leave, and you see those drains there? Those will start emptying water into this lovely little dungeon you are in now, and we get to see if you can get out of the chair and through that big drain in the center of the wall, ok?"   
Damius shivered, he didn't even last a full day, and he was going to die.   
"Why m-me?" Damius whispered, beginning to sob.  
"Why you? I don't know, I just felt like it."  
Damius began to panic.  
"Please let me go, please. I'll do anything! Anything!" the man looked at him.  
"You know, I really don't want to..." Damius gasped for air as he looked around frantically before steadying himself and trying to remain calm.  
"Then tell me this, you sadistic bastard, what's your name." the man smiled.  
"My name? I suppose I could grace you with that... I am Fulgrim, and you are dead." Fulgrim reached into his pocket and brought out a massive set pf pliers, shoddily hammered together.   
"Now, this will hurt a lot."  
Fulgrim jammed the pliers onto his large toe and twisted it. Damius heard a sickening crunch and a burning painful sensation. Fulgrim set the pliers down on an iron tray settled on the floor with other various torture items, along with a massive toenail. This method continued for some time, with Fulgrim slamming Iron nails into the patches of skin were his nails had once been. Fulgrim stood up after each nail had been removed and replaced with Iron nails.  
"Almost time for the water to get in here. Bye bye, weakling!" Fulgrim exited through a heavy iron door and Damius heard the heavy click of a lock. He waited there for half an hour, silently sobbing in pain before he heard the rush of water. holes in the walls with grates covering them began to spew out water and fill the floor. The water was fast, and Damius could feel the ice cold water on his feet. He squirmed, panicked and weakened, and then stopped, one of the iron nails were loose, he pressed his finger down on the arm of the chair until the loose Iron nail popped out, oozing with blood. Damius grabbed it, and contorted his hand so the nail was poking at the cloth strap holding him to the chair. A minute of panic passed as the water filled up to his knees, and then the cloth strap ripped in two, and Damius hurriedly ripped apart the other. he threw himself off the chair and waded through the water, pulling the iron nails from his fingers as forced himself toward the open drain in the center of the wall. It was still spewing water and was too high to reach, so he waited. Within five minutes he was able to enter the narrow drain. He pushed himself forward through the dark tunnel, he couldn't breath, couldn't see, couldn't feel due to the cold. the tunnel shrunk, closing in on him more and more until he had to grab notches in the surface ahead of him to pull himself forward. He was running out of his breath, his lungs were screaming at him, and he felt as if he were going to die. the cold had awoken him, and now it was going to see him fall asleep. His arms grew weaker, his lungs screamed and screamed, his head grew lighter, and the darkness began to close in on him. Damius was going to die.

***

A cold, shivering, bleeding body was wedged in a small chute in a narrow crawlspace. He had been stuck here for hours, passed out. the water had emptied from the chute a minute after Damius had passed out, and now he was here, shivering and waiting. He pulled himself forward by an inch every two minutes, and only felt colder.  
Their must have been a source from the cold, however. Damius realized this when he felt cold air faintly flicking his forehead. He felt the crawlspace widen, and he could actually begin to move again. He pushed himself forward, using the lasts crumbs of energy he had before he tumbled out of the tunnel and slammed onto some boulders, he cried out in pain.   
"Hello?" a stranger's voice called out. Damius lifted his head, and used his gasping breaths to call out.   
"H-help..." Damius heard the crackling of gravel as two figures in tattered furs peeped over a ledge and saw him.  
"By god, who is that..?" a woman whispered to the other figure, a man,  
"I am not sure, he is weak, he needs help... come on..." the figures dropped down and shuffled over to Damius who was limp on the ground.   
"He's bleeding and soaking wet!"  
"It's a miracle we found him, come one dear, help me lift him up..."  
the man and the woman lifted Damius up carefully and carried him over to the ledge and set him down.   
"We need to take him back to the hut, come on."  
"Ok, let's go." the two figures lifted him up again, and carried him for twenty minutes until they reached a set of three military tents. They set him down in one of them, and covered him in some furs after removing his wet clothing. He finally felt warm, for the first time since he was taken from his home, he finally felt warm, and sleep was able to take him.


End file.
